The Kid in Yellow
by Someone Who Isn't Me
Summary: It's just a regular teenage party... Or is it?


People had been strangely drawn to Cameron ever since eighth grade. They came to him. The Goth kids, the disturbed artists, everyone from West High who considered themselves to be living on the darker side of life. There were around a dozen of them, and they often met in Cameron's huge, empty house to watch horror movies and listen to music. Occasionally, they invited more people than the usual group and had a party of sorts.

On this particular night, there were twenty. One of the new guys had gotten ahold of some pot, and everyone smoked. At three in the morning, they were sprawled in various positions on the couches and floor. Their dark clothes formed an endless sea of black, the color scheme only broken by one guy who had dared to wear a yellow T-shirt. Cameron took up the length of the biggest sofa, while his best friend, who called himself Dragon, lay curled up on the floor nearby.

One of the girls moaned like she was having a nightmare, but the boys were too far gone to get up and comfort her. The movie had been over for hours. Bjork wailed in slow motion from Cameron's laptop. Everything was quiet and peaceful until the guy in the yellow shirt crept up and slipped in a new CD. Later, those who were at the party would compare notes and realize that no one knew who he was. They didn't remember him coming in or leaving. His face would escape their minds. The only detail anyone would ever remember was that neon yellow shirt.

Within a few seconds, the new music began. It was bright. It was uplifting .The combination of flute and techno music was improbable, but somehow electric. It made one want to get up and dance. Shirley was the first to answer the call. She sat up and shook off her sleeping boyfriend's arm. "Hey," she slurred. "I think I've heard this somewhere before…" Then she stood and started shaking her hips.

Dragon jumped up and started doing a weird sort of shimmy around Cameron's couch. "Picture" Pickman stopped trying to draw some horror or other and joined in. The nightmare girl woke and rubbed her eyes, leaving streaks of black makeup on her cheeks. Alex smiled in that creepy way of his and began turning around in circles. Neil did something much more conventional. The yellow-shirted mystery man wove through the middle of it all, and no one had any idea what he was doing.

The beat pounded and everything built toward a crescendo that never came. There were lyrics now, something about coming to a festival. Couch cushions flew and paper cups were overturned. Glass shattered somewhere as twenty teenagers flapped around like crazy birds. They didn't know where the strange techno music had come from, but they didn't care.

Alex laughed, Shirley kissed her boyfriend, and Cameron was the only one still sitting on his couch. He didn't like this. He prided himself in manipulating people and making them slowly go nuts, but this was the wrong kind of madness. He waited a minute. Then another. Cameron was very good at waiting, but he knew he had to do something soon. The volume rose higher and higher without anyone touching the computer. People threw themselves around like they were in a mosh pit; Niel pulled a recorder out of his ass and played along with the flute… until Cameron stumbled over and slammed the laptop shut.

Everyone froze in their tracks, looking faintly ashamed. Most of them were Goths, into things like darkness and death, and here they were dancing to some kind of pop song… They shook themselves off and slumped to the floor again to continue their dreams. Only Cameron and Alex were still standing, and Cameron didn't like the look in the other boy's eyes. Cameron felt like he should explain himself; say why he turned off the music, but the right words wouldn't come out. "Earth," he said, as if that were some sort of justification.

"Space," said a nerdy guy named Luke from somewhere behind him.

"The Universe," Alex added, his gaze steady.

The guy in the yellow T-shirt snickered loudly, but no one seemed to notice him. And, because Cameron was high, the whole thing made perfect sense.


End file.
